


The Origin of High Fantasy

by littlewonder



Series: Otherfuckers [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aromantic, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Science, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewonder/pseuds/littlewonder
Summary: Since their adventure on the Enterprise, Delia keeps in touch with Data. But when she calls Data from her new assignment on Maravel, some  heavy emotions that Delia has kept buried get dredged up.





	The Origin of High Fantasy

After her brush with danger on Rigel IV, Dr Delia Hardeck had returned to life as usual, or as usual as it could be within Starfleet. On a planet of natural terrain, and rich in lifeforms and prehistoric fossils, she had well and truly returned to the career she loved.

When she joined a team of scientists on Maravel, she had become excited to explore such a fantastical planet; it was a planet that contained dragons and other creatures often found in High Fantasy, and she was fascinated at the idea of the fiction genre originating here.

If she was honest, fantasy was one of her first loves, one that only amplified her love of dinosaurs later when it had arisen, and this planet fed both loves. As well as the varieties of ancient animals the planet housed, the planet in its modern form was endlessly fascinating to her. As such, she regularly checked in with her fellow scientists, particularly the xenobiology and xenoanthropology divisions, to see what new discoveries they were making.

For now she sat in her assigned quarters, overlooking the planet. She had a wide window, and she took a moment to gaze down at the lush forests and distant mountain ranges that were stretched out before her.  
She walked to her desk and sat down. She still had a few hours before she was told to meet her team.  
If Delia’s calculations were correct, she knew she was in signal range of the Enterprise-D; she kept regular track of its movements so she always knew when it was possible to call Data.

She rang him up and quickly found Data’s face staring back at her.

She smiled at seeing his image over the video line. It felt good to see him again.

“Hi, Data,” she said.

They were currently in a long-term relationship, and regular calls was just one aspect of that. It had not been a week since she had sent him a voice message telling him of her latest assignment.

“I’m all settled in now, so we can talk,” she said.

“You said in your message that you got a new mission."

“I’m on Maravel. A truly fascinating planet. Dragons. Have you ever read any Earth literature from the High Fantasy genre? This is like discovering one of those kinds of worlds. The fact that there actually exists a planet such as this is amazing. It makes you wonder how such foreign creatures ever made it into Earth literature."

“Is not it dangerous?" asked Data.

“Sometimes that’s part of the job. I and other scientists have been to planets with dangerous animals, or pre-warp civilizations, and you have to keep out of the way and not interfere, at the same time as you must carry out your work. But we have plenty of precautions in place, and plenty of security, so I feel pretty safe."

“Are there pre-warp societies on Maravel?” asked Data.

“As a matter of fact, there are. They’re humanoid, but with significantly different internal bio-chemistry. We have an xenoanthropology division on board who are studying their behaviour, too. But my division’s job is more focused on studying when and how they evolved."

“Among other things."

“Well, yes. But it’s a starting place. The first thing we have to do is survey the land and the peoples who live on it. Once we have observed where their territory is, our job takes us out of the way of the locals to study the surrounding area for evidence of ancient or prehistoric remains."

“There still is the danger of encountering them if your survey comes too close to those boundaries,” said Data.

“It’s a calculated risk; generally, you don’t get outside wanderers. On the occasions we do, they’re outliers, so they don’t pose much threat, as we have ways to remain hidden. On the rare occasions that fails, we have to deal with them on an individual basis. Sometimes we put them to work, sometimes we leave them alone. It all depends on them. But sometimes, we are forced to defend ourselves."

“That is true,” said Data. “In the course of duty, I have at times found this to be the case. But I am an android, and thus am built stronger. You are not."

“That’s true. I’m not particularly strong, or good at fighting. That’s what security is for."

“You did not have security on Rigel IV,” said Data. “Yet you escaped with your life. I wonder how you managed that."

“The same way I’ll manage this: with stealth. Security is more of a back-up plan."

“Like I was for your research when you first boarded the Enterprise."

"Exactly."

Data paused. “We never have talked about your time on Rigel IV, or what happened there."

“Because it isn’t important,” said Delia. “I completed my mission. That’s all that needs to be said."

Data cocked his head. “I think it is important. Why do you not?"

“Because _you weren’t there_ ,” said Delia. “And I know that wasn’t your fault; you had somewhere else to be, a job to do. I thought of you every second I was down there; you, where I had felt safe, and on Rigel… I was alone, and scared. Without you, every moment felt like ice, like every pore in my skin filled with it. Please understand, I don’t mean this literally, but I was so scared that every moment out of your comforting embrace felt oppressive. And sneaking around in the dark, every moment uncertain and dangerous… I wished I had you with me.

"I don’t like to think of those times. Even now, the thought of it is unsettling. I wish you were here. I wish I could see you again, in person, and throw my arms around you. I don’t know when next we’ll meet. But some nights, you drift into my brain, and I crave you, and I want you next to me. Is that strange?"

“No, it is not strange,” said Data. “You told me you love me. You told me what that means. I believe this may be a part of that."

"Yeah…" said Delia. “You’re probably right. I think it is that…"

For several long moments, Delia indulged in the memory. She remembered back to when she and Data and discussed what love is. For most people, love is this indefinable quality, but she and Data had discussed in depth what love truly was; or how she perceived it, anyway. Those who didn’t talk about such things, which was many people, were cowards.  
Not that Delia was perfect, or courageous, or a hero; she wasn’t. There were many things that made her run and hide. But truth… was one thing she was determined to face, no matter what.

It wasn’t always easy. Her love for Data had always made her feel a bit… self-conscious. More than her love for Data, though, was his affection for her. Although he often told her he could not feel love, it was apparent that something drew him to her.

That was enough. Yet still, she wondered. What, if not love, drew him to her? Was it possible that he might someday drift from her? The thought was unsettling.

“And because I love you," asked Delia, “I don’t want to lose you."

“You will not lose me."

“Right now, I’m far away from you,” she said. “And I trust you. I just don’t understand you or what it is you feel about me. I know there’s something there, I just don’t know what it is."

“It is difficult to explain. I am fond of you, and I admire you. But it is more than that. I have made a commitment to you, one based on the profound interest I have in you. We have shared conversations and sexual intimacy with you that I have had with no other. We have established a bond that exceeds all others, and it is one that I intend to hold onto. I have created a subroutine devoted to you and our relationship; I do not intend to leave you."

Delia smiled. “I’m glad. But I still wish you were here right now. So I could touch you."

"I am well aware that humans need physical contact in order to bond with each other; that is also why we had sex," said Data.

Delia blushed. “Among other things,” she said.

“Among other things,” he agreed. “Although I do not react to physical touch quite so viscerally as humans do, I would also like to touch you, both as a bonding exercise and to ease your anxiety."

Delia grinned. “Thank you,” she said. “Although I feel guilty if you’re worried about me, I’m glad you are. It’s heartening to know you care about me so much. I hope this means you understand why I don’t want to talk about Rigel?"

“Rigel IV,” he corrected her.

“Right,” she said.

“Because you do not wish to linger on the bad memories,” answered Data.

“That’s right."

“But perhaps… will there be a day when you will wish to talk about it?" asked Data.

“Perhaps,” said Delia. “But it is not this day."

“Why not?” asked Data. "Why is now a less appropriate time than some indeterminate point in the future?"

“Because, I… I’m afraid. I still feel so connected to you and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you. And it’s not like I fear you abandoning me, but it’s so hard for us to be together, with these different jobs we do for Starfleet. We rarely meet in person. And that fear might threaten to overwhelm me if I only focus on those scary, sad moments without you, cut off from you. I never want to feel like that again; I want to be with you."

“I understand,” said Data.

“If I could just touch you… maybe I wouldn’t feel so untethered, floating through space, helpless. I need you to ground me, I need your stabilizing force. Doing jobs like this, I deal. But in my heart, I’m still yearning for you. I never knew I could yearn like this, that I could feel so strongly for someone. It doesn’t overshadow my work, exactly. But it does overshadow my passion for it. I never thought I could want, need, crave, yearn for anything this much. I almost feel out of control, but somehow, I manage. Talking to you stirs up these emotions, such that I can’t sit still, I have to move my hands, move my body, get the jitters out somehow. Then I have to compartmentalise my emotions away when I return to work. As soon as I return to my quarters, they always return.

“Don’t you see, that talking about that time in my life, right now, would bring me way too low? I wouldn’t be able to shake the feeling, and it would impact me too much to focus. I wouldn’t be able to think about anything but losing you, and I would be attacked by the most vicious depression that I fear it might paralyse me.

“I want to wait until you’re here, or I’m there, and you can hold me, reassure me, before I can talk about it."  
“I understand,” repeated Data.

Watching Data stare back at her expressionlessly, Delia could feel her heart breaking. Was it possible he felt nothing for her?

“Well, say something, won’t you? Don’t you miss me?" she said.

"…Yes,” said Data. “I miss you."

Delia took a breath. “Sorry, Data, I just worried for a minute. I know you don’t feel as intensely as humans do, and all this, these emotions I have, must be a lot to deal with. I know you must feel less for me than I do for you, and I’m still fine with that. But sometimes I worry. Are you simply used to me, or do you genuinely like who I am?"

Data looked at her through the screen, his eyes holding concern in them. “Delia, I care deeply for you. I may not feel it as intensely ― before I knew you, I did not believe it was there at all ― but I care for you as much as anyone I have ever known. I want to see you, too."  
Delia smiled back at him. “I’m glad to hear it."

As her gaze eventually drifted from him, she tried to think back to remember how they’d even gotten onto this topic.

She laughed. “Security. That’s what we were talking about, wasn’t it?" she said. “My mission on Rigel IV, as opposed to here on Maravel. It’s funny how the conversation ran away with us."

“‘Ran away’?” asked Data.

“A human expression. It means, to get off topic."

"Ah,” said Data. "Adjective: irrelevant. Beside the point; extraneous; immaterial; impertinent; inconsequential."

"Yes."

"Pointless; trivial ―”

“Okay, okay,” said Delia. “Maybe it’s not exactly… pointless. I just didn’t mean to get so… emotional."  
“We are in a relationship,” said Data. “You are allowed."  
“Yeah, I know…” said Delia. “I know I am, Data, I just… didn’t expect to make this such a personal call. I didn’t know I had so much in me. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your face, even over video call. It’s been awhile since Rigel IV, so I guess I’ve been carrying a lot of emotional baggage; I couldn’t really risk exposing myself down there, so I had to hide it all. Sorry I dumped all that on you."

“Do not be sorry,” said Data. "It made me feel closer to you. It allowed me to understand you more, and how you feel about me."

Delia smiled to herself. Then she looked back shyly at Data.

“I’m glad. I really love you, Data. You don’t have to say it back. But… I do. And I miss you. I love this job, and I will do this job. But at the end of it, I want to meet you again. Before I do anything else. I need to meet you again, to do something with all these feelings… before I can move onto the next job. I want to be by your side, next time, to work alongside you. Being so far from you… is a lot of work. It’s harder than I’ve ever worked before. That’s how I know I love you."

“Is that how I could know?” asked Data. “If being apart from you is more difficult than being with you?"

“Things change when you fall in love. You become different, somehow. You can’t go back to how you used to be. You start to live as a pair, and you can’t comprehend how you ever lived alone before. Is that how you feel?"

For a long moment, Data sat staring back at her, calculating. “It is how I feel about Lal,” he finally said, “it is how I feel about Geordi.” He looked back at her. “And it is how I feel about you."

“Should I be jealous?"

"Jealous?"

“Of Geordi."

“He is my best friend. You should not have to feel jealous."

“Okay,” said Delia. “That’s good. I’m glad."

“Are you jealous?"

“Not jealous. Just surprised, I guess,” said Delia. “Lal’s your daughter, so it makes sense that you would want to be with her. But platonic love… is rarely so strong that you would feel incomplete without them. It has more commonly been implied that such deep relationships can only be romantic in nature. But that may be an amatonormative expectation."

“Query: amatonormative?"

“The norm shared by a society that romantic relationships are the most important, and take precedence over other types of relationships."  
“So Geordi and I have a rare type of friendship. So rare that others might assume we were lovers. Thus your comment."

"Exactly."

“But we are not lovers. We are just friends."

“Good to know,” said Delia. "You love one from each category: family, friend, lover."

“Yes,” said Data. “And you are the lover."

Delia looked down, smiling to herself.

“You know how I know the word amatonormative? Many don’t know it, but it aro circles, it’s quite common. I used to think I was aromantic before I met you. I have since figured out that I must be greyromantic; I can only form romantic attraction rarely. You’re the exception."

“I feel the same way,” said Data.

Delia smiled at him, and he smiled back (small, subtle; she had taught him how). A comfortable silence passed between them.

“I have to get back to work in half an hour,” Delia said finally, breaking the silence. “I need that time to feel my feelings. Maybe next time, we can talk about my work more."

“I enjoyed this time,” said Data, “It made me feel closer to you."

“I suppose I did, too,” she said. "You do mean more to me than the work. But now I have to be professional. Just for now. I look forward to meeting you in the future. But until then…"

“Until then,” agreed Data, and then signed off.

“Until then…” Delia whispered to herself, and shut off the monitor.

Turning in her chair, she looked out the window at the forest below. It was only a reminder of how far away she was from him, and how long she had to wait until she could see him in person once again.

Somehow, his image on the screen had paled in comparison to the glimmer of his skin, the vivid colour of his eyes. He had just appeared as a cold, distant image, separated from her.

She started to cry.

Turning into her seat, she closed her eyes and quietly sobbed, aching at the vast distance between them and the need to reach out and touch him.

She had been lonely all her life, but never had she felt that so sharply. She had once moved about the world, detached but strangely content at her distance from it, as though she were smarter and safer than anyone else, at least emotionally. But then she realised she hadn’t been, and had to learn strength instead.

And her strength wasn’t without weakness, without misery, or fear, or hopelessness; it wasn’t strength despite those things, but through them. Her strength was a scale with hope on one end and fear on the other. Right now, what she felt was fear: fear that she couldn’t make it through this assignment without him, fear of losing him, fear of eventually breaking down from her isolation, away from his touch that could reassure her better than words ever could. Yet she held on to the strength to bare the loneliness, and to hope that those thoughts weren’t reflective of reality.

As she slowly rocked herself back in the chair, and looked out at the distraction of the forest, she slowly allowed herself to let out her grief, before recovering and re-centring herself.

At the end of it, she dried her eyes, stood up straight, and placed herself in those happy childhood memories of listening to and reading fantasy novels while dreaming of exploring a land like this.

She smiled. And then she walked back out into the world, ready to take it on.


End file.
